Impossible
by vuarapuung
Summary: What if Snape had a little surprise for Harry at the end of Half-Blood Prince?


_A/N: _This is the first of a series of little one-shots exploring a few "What if...?" scenarios from the Harry Potter universe. This is just a silly little one to get us started.

**DISCLAIMER: Based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling**

_Starts after Dumbledore's death in HBP._

Harry didn't exactly have a plan as to what he would do if he actually caught Snape, but he wasn't thinking about that. All he could think about was getting to Snape and hurting him for what he'd done to Dumbledore.

"_Crucio!_" Harry yelled, aiming for Snape's retreating back. Snape deflected it almost as if he had known it was coming. He tried firing more spells, but Snape deflected them easily. The other Death Eaters had set fire to Hagrid's house, and now he was desperately trying to fight them off.

"Leave him!" Snape barked. "He belongs to the Dark Lord. Get out of here." Harry feebly raised his wand to aim at Snape.

"_Stup_-!" he muttered, but Snape blocked it before Harry even had a chance. He tried again.

"Come on, Potter, still shouting spells out loud?" Snape asked.

_Levicorpus!_ Harry thought furiously. Snape blocked it again.

"Fight back!" Harry roared. "Fight back, you coward!"

"DON'T!" Snape roared. "Don't call me a coward!"

_Sectumsempra!_

"No, Potter!" He deflected it again, this time disarming Harry and sending his wand flying. "You won't be using any more of my spells against me. That's right. I'm the Half-Blood Prince. You're just like your filthy father, you know!"

"Then kill me," Harry said, rising to his feet. "Kill me like you killed him. You as good as murdered him yourself! You betrayed them!"

Snape suddenly slashed his wand, and Harry felt a searing pain in his right wrist. He dropped to the ground, his hand now torn from his arm to leave only a bloody stump behind.

"If you only knew," Snape said. "If you only knew the power of the Dark Side. Dumbledore never told you what happened to your father."

"He told me that Voldemort killed him," Harry snapped. "He told me how you were the one that told Voldemort about the prophecy!" Snape drew himself up to his full height.

"No, Potter. _I am your father_."

"No..." Harry muttered, stumbling back. "That's not true. THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE!"

"Search your feelings, you know it to be true!"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

"Yes," Snape replied, looking a bit put out. "Those good lungs you get from your mother though."

"Then how come I look so much like James Potter, if you're my real father?" Harry asked, suddenly feeling more sure of himself. Yes, Snape couldn't be his father. It had to be some sort of rather poor, overdone joke. "I suppose you'll try and tell me some rubbish about how you used some magic charm to make me look like him, but now that I know the truth it'll wear off and my hair will turn greasy and everything."

"Actually no," Snape replied. "You looking like James is just a fortunate coincidence really. Genetics is funny like that."

"Oh."

For a long time they stood looking at each other. In the forest the Death Eaters were shouting. Apparently they got lost and were confused as to why they couldn't Apparate. Hagrid was weeping as he tried to put out his burning house, but apparently the only spell he could remember was for summoning sausages.

"So what happens now?" Harry asked.

"Well, I'm not going to give you a hug, if that's what you're after," Snape replied. "I suppose I ought to make a half-hearted offer to join the Dark Lord. Maybe we could overthrow the old git and rule the world as father and son."

"Sounds good," Harry replied. Snape glared at him.

"You were supposed to say that you'll never join the Dark Side," Snape snapped at him. "Ten points from Gryffindor!"

"Since when has it been the Dark Side anyway?" Harry asked. "I've never heard it called that before."

"Oh, I don't have time for this," Snape shouted in frustration, before storming off into the forest after the incompetent Death Eaters and hoping that they hadn't gotten themselves killed by attacking Grawp or, worse, each other.

Harry decided to wander over to where Dumbledore's body had fallen. A few curious first years were poking it with their wands.

Harry stood and looked at it for a long time. He couldn't take his eyes off the body, as if staring at it for long enough would make it spring to life again.

Suddenly though, he felt a soft, tiny, warm hand envelop his own. At first he thought it was one of the first years, but he turned around to stare into the face of his beautiful girlfriend.

"I found your hand," Ginny said helpfully, waving the appendage in his face. "Hermione says that if we get you up to the Hospital Wing soon, we can stick it back on." She gently pulled on the hand still attached to the arm, leading him through the mass of students who had come to gawk at Dumbledore's body (some were holding their wands up into the air like they were at some sort of rock concert).

Eventually they made it to the Hospital Wing. There they discussed everything that had happened, and Madam Pomfrey reattached Harry's hand to his arm.

"I can't believe Severus was a spy," McGonagall said with a sob.

"I can't believe he's my dad," Harry said. "Why didn't Dumbledore tell me? You know, I'm probably going to be traumatised for life after this." Ginny pulled him into a hug.

"Don't worry," she whispered. "We're all here for you."

"I know," Harry replied. "But if you turn out to be my sister then I'm gonna kill someone."


End file.
